Mine
by Graveygraves
Summary: Case Fic: The team are invited in to help with a case, however the more they find out about the UnSub the more uncomfotable it makes JJ. Unbeta'd, reviews appreciated.
1. Chapter 1

**Mine**

**Disclaimer – I own nothing but the ideas.**

**This is set pre Series 6 and that's a specific as I get. Let me know what you think.**

**. . . **

The sun shone brightly and everyone in the park knew it was going to be a glorious day. The park was already packed, early, as people got out and enjoyed the late spring heat wave. By lunchtime it would be too hot to be outside.

Children rode their bikes, as families made the most of their weekend time together. Laughter filled the air, as fathers chased and played ball. Teenagers rolled their eyes, as they tried hard to chill in the heat.

Everything in view showed the world to be a wonderful place.

. . .

Karyn Howard wasn't in the sunshine, from where she was, she couldn't even tell if it was daytime.

As she slowly became more aware of her surroundings Karyn started to wonder how long she had been here, where ever here was.

The dark windowless room was cold, which surprised Karyn, as she knew the county had been in the grip of a heat wave for about a week. God, she had prayed for somewhere cool enough to breath. Now she prayed to be anywhere but. Increasing fear further chilled her.

Karyn huddled herself further into the corner. Making herself as small as possible, as if she could silently disappear, the way she had miraculously appeared. She rested her head down on her knees to fight the wave of nausea that washed over her. _How had she got here?_

She remembered getting ready to go out with her friends; trying outfits on over a glass or two of wine. The giggles as they did each other's hair and make-up – like a bunch of high school girls. They were going to celebrate her thirtieth birthday. A day few had thought she would see. Most people dreaded such milestones, but for Karyn it was a major milestone she thought she'd never make. Karyn had been born with only one kidney, which wasn't a problem, until the sole kidney decided to fail. Transplant had been her only option.

She had got ready with Jess and Sara and met up with the others later. It had been a great night, what she could remember, but how had it ended? _What had happened to get her here?_

Trembling, making the chains that held her there chatter, Karyn tried to think straight. She couldn't concentrate; nothing seemed to be making sense. The jigsaw puzzle, that was the night before, was missing more than a few pieces. There were complete blanks. She hadn't drunk much, years of not being able to drink anything, meant that, though she liked the idea of making up for the lost collage years, she didn't drink a lot, ever. _So what happened?_

All she could do was wait and hope that help was on the way. That someone knew she was missing. That someone had seen what had happened. _Surely she hadn't willingly gone off with a stranger? Please God, don't let this be someone I know. I can't know anyone that would do this – can I?_

. . .

The final preparations were underway. Everything had to be just so; checking that everything was in the right place, spotless and clean, was a precise job. However he prided himself on his attention to detail. His trays of tools were laid out, all equipment in its desired position.

Filling a syringe with the blue liquid, he tapped it twice to release the tiny air bubbles. Placing it down on the stainless steel tray already on the gurney, he looked around, one final check wouldn't hurt. Satisfied, he pushed the trolley down the corridor.

He reached the door, his keys jingled as he found the one he needed first. That was when he heard her, so pathetic, why did they always think that pleading and whining would make a difference.

"Please, please help me."

Swinging the door wide open, so that the gurney fitted in easily in front of him, he ignored the vain attempts being made to persuade him to let her go. She could beg until she was blue in the face, nothing would stop him now.

Eventually turning towards her he realised how ridiculous she looked in the corner of the room. She was so tiny and vulnerable. She had made it so easy for him, last night. Shame she wasn't going to live long enough to learn her lesson.

"Please," Karyn whispered.

His cold blue eyes stared through her, a look of distain on his face. Picking the tray up with the syringe on it he made his way over towards her. Placing it down within reach, and view, he grabbed her naked arm.

"No," Karyn shouted, jerking her arm with renewed strength.

He tighten his grip, she needed to be still. Maybe he should secure them on the trolley before they came round - but that wasn't part of the routine, it wasn't how he liked things. But it might make it easier, especially if they were going to be fitter and younger, like this one. He would consider it for the future.

Karyn was determined to fight. She wasn't going to passively let him take her. She had fought Mother Nature for her life, she would fight him. Kicking out she caught him off guard and sent him flying backwards. He clattered into the gurney, cursing.

Jumping back, he backhanded her across the face. It stung. Grabbing her left arm and stamping down on it hard. The snap echoed around the bare room, drowned out by the scream resonating out of Karyn.

The pain stunned Karyn, she froze, incapable of moving as shock took over her body.

He smiled as he inserted the needle into the prominent vain in her arm. The injury was a necessary evil. He hadn't intended it but he had needed to do it. He wasn't interested in deliberately causing pain, it wasn't part of the plan.

"What do you want?" Karyn slurred as the cocktail of drugs started to take effect.

"I want what is mine," he smirked, "You don't deserve it."

He sat back and watched. Watched her eyes flutter, fighting until the end. As she fully submitted he undid the shackles and lifted her onto the trolley. If only he could find away to get them on to the trolley willingly then it would all be perfect.

As he wheeled her back to his theatre he whistled, happy that shortly he would have back another piece.

Entering his stainless steel work place, he made Karyn the centre of attention. Rapidly he stripped her and put a gown onto her. He secured her as he went to scrub up. Flicking his iPod on as he went. He always had music on in theatre. Quite and relaxing to keep his stress levels down. He worked better without undue stress. The bright lights shone, making a halo around Karyn's unnaturally still body.

Returning in his full scrubs, hands gloved and mask on, he was ready to begin. Taking a calming breath he steadied himself and begun the operation, carefully and with full attention to detail. He stopped frequently to check for her vital signs. She would survive the operation. How long after that before she was dead, if she came round at all, he didn't know, as none of them had regained consciousness yet.

. . .

**~*~ Profiler's Choice 2011 Fanfic Awards for the Criminal Minds Community ~*~**

**Hosted by ilovetvalot and tonnie2001969**

_It is our pleasure to announce the Second Annual Profiler's Choice Fanfic Awards for the Criminal Minds community! _

_The nomination ballot is now available, and all rules are posted on Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum! Nomination ballots must be received by October 15, 2011 and must be sent to this PM at Profiler's Choice CM Awards. Fics for consideration must have appeared on the CM section of between September 1, 2010 and August 31, 2011 (see rules for full details.)_


	2. Chapter 2

**Mine**

**Disclaimer – I own nothing but the ideas.**

**Thank you for the support - I have the whole story written and just editing now, so hopefully I will able to post a chapter a week (fingers crossed).  
><strong>

**. . . **

JJ sat beside the bed, holding his hand. A silent prayer running through her head. She had never seen him this weak before, and it scared her. Though he had never been as outwardly protective as Morgan, she always knew he was there for her. He listened, without prejudice, and he was an amazing father to Henry. _How many men would give up everything, move hundreds of miles, all in the hope that one day she would say yes to him?_

Will had been ill for a while. At first no-body thought it was anything serious, just one of those things. He was always tired, there was no reason for it, he just was. Henry was a good sleeper, Will wasn't up all night with him, but still he was tired. Then he noticed swelling in his hands and feet, and the skin was itchy. With this and the tiredness Will seemed to age overnight. JJ begged him to get tests done; she spent hours searching on the internet, trying to work out what could be wrong. He was happy to dismiss it all but JJ couldn't. It niggled her night and day. Then the final straw was the constant nausea. By now he was washed out most of the time. Will was struggling with Henry and JJ was concerned for the safety of them both when she wasn't there.

Finally he gave in and with JJ's help Will was tested for everything and anything. It didn't take long for the blood and urine tests to show that Will was suffering from kidney failure. The problem was, as with most people, it was in the advance stages. The symptoms don't start to show until late on. Treatment was started straight away. Will opted for in centre dialysis.

But now the dialysis was no longer working and Will needed a donor. She knew his sister was on the way. JJ had volunteered herself, but failed the tests. Will's sister was his last chance, without having to be added to a long waiting list. A list JJ was afraid he wouldn't survive. But his sister had been hard to get hold of. It had been hard work tracking Katie down, she was travelling and difficult to get in contact with, but as soon as she knew how rapidly her brother's kidneys had failed, she started planning a route home.

"Hey," Will's voice was barely a whisper, but enough to get JJ to raise her head.

She squeezed his hand as she fought hard to hold back the tears. She was determined to be strong for him.

"How you feeling?" she asked, feeling stupid as soon as she'd said it.

"Felt better," he murmured, "Where's Henry?"

She hated to see him like this, so she wasn't bringing Henry to see his father like this.

"He's with your Mum, she's staying here until you're all sorted," JJ smiled, trying to reassure him that it would all be ok soon.

"I'd like to see him," he managed, "I miss him."

"I know," as JJ spoke her phone bleeped and she grimaced. Fishing it out of her bag, she looked down at the display: Hotch. Pressing the button, she cancelled the call.

"You need to go," Will whispered, "I understand, we can't both sit around doing nothing all day."

A now rare smile crept across his face at his own attempt at a joke.

"I don't have to; I can tell them and stay here."

"Go, we'll know nothing more until Katie gets here."

JJ rose and kissed Will gently. As she left she turned to face him. Already his eyes were shut. She may not have promised for better or worse, but she wanted to be there beside him, no matter what.

. . . .

"I'm just saying that genius isn't an obvious thing, for example Albert Einstein was a late talker and had speech problems until he was nine years old. Also he failed his initial entry exams for university, though he was applying early."

Prentiss rolled her eyes at Morgan, who smirked.

"What you say this time Princess?"

"Nothing, just something I know I shouldn't have," she replied, "It was enough to set him off though."

Prentiss nodded her head in Reid's direction.

"What?" he asked, a confused look crossing his innocent face.

"Don't worry," Prentiss said shaking her head, as she took a seat next to Morgan, placing her large coffee down as she opened the file in front of her, "What we got this time?"

"Hush, I don't want to hear anything unnecessary that will affect the quality of my beauty sleep, I still haven't got a good night since the last case," Garcia interceded before Morgan could answer, grimacing as she did so.

"Baby Girl, you don't need any beauty sleep, you're perfect," Derek wrapped his arm round her shoulder as she moved her chair closer to him.

"Purr ... lease," Prentiss motioned to be sick, "I've only just had my breakfast."

"Jealous," Morgan teased.

Prentiss just rolled her eyes, her answer stopped by Hotch and Rossi entering the room.

"Where's JJ?" Garcia whispered, behind the fluffy pink feather on the end of the pen in her hand.

Everyone else shrugged.

"Right, let's get started," Hotch brought everyone together. He had spoken to JJ and had agreed to meet her at the airport.

"As you can see from your files, three bodies have been found within a clearing in a wood," Hotch paused as three images came up on the screen, "The victims, two men and a woman have not been directly murdered, but seem to have died as a result of undergoing what appears to be surgery."

Hotch looked up, the same stoic look on his face as always. The team knew this was their cue to jump in and start swapping ideas.

"Surgery?" Prentiss questioned, "So our UnSub had medical knowledge?"

"Possible student or failed surgeon?" Morgan chipped in.

"Don't forget veterinary personal and theatre staff," Reid added.

"They were alive when the surgery started," Rossi added drily, "Do the tox reports say if they were sedated? If not, torture and pain become the prime motivator. If they were, then the trophies are the factor that pushes his button."

"I suggest we get to the jet, we can all finish reading the information, then talk again."

"Sir."

"Yes Garcia," Hotch turned back to her.

"Where's JJ? Is she OK?"

He nodded once, "She's meeting us at the strip, she was held up this morning."

With which he left.

Garcia wasn't convinced. JJ didn't get held up. She was so on time you could set your watch by her. Slumping back in her chair she watched her superheroes leave. With JJ meeting them at the jet she wouldn't have chance to check her out first either.

Making her way back to her lair, Penelope picked up her phone. She paused before dialling, but did so anyway.

"Hey Hun, It's Pen, you OK?"

"Yeah," JJ answered, she'd made it to the strip and was waiting for the others, "Will's not to good and I had to sort Henry."

JJ was more than aware of why Penelope had called, and having kept Will's disease a secret from her friend, she could hardly confess all now.

"Jay, he really needs to see a doctor, he can't keep getting sick like this."

"He is, I made sure he has this time," JJ hated lying to her friend, but being honest meant admitting that there was something seriously wrong with Will. And that was something she was struggling to admit to herself yet.

. . .

**~*~ Profiler's Choice 2011 Fanfic Awards for the Criminal Minds Community ~*~**

**Hosted by ilovetvalot and tonnie2001969**

_It is our pleasure to announce the Second Annual Profiler's Choice Fanfic Awards for the Criminal Minds community! _

_The nomination ballot is now available, and all rules are posted on Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum! Nomination ballots must be received by October 15, 2011 and must be sent to this PM at Profiler's Choice CM Awards. Fics for consideration must have appeared on the CM section of between September 1, 2010 and August 31, 2011 (see rules for full details.)_


	3. Chapter 3

**Mine**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas.**

**. . .**

An object in possession seldom retains the same charm that it had in pursuit.  
><strong>Pliny the Elder<strong>**, Roman Scholar & Scientist**

**. . . **

"Okay," the team had gathered around the screen as soon as Garcia had popped up, "I have the answer to the tox question, yes all three had traces of a cocktail of drugs in them, the exact solution changed slightly between number two and number three."

"Thank you Garcia," Rossi butted in.

"You're most welcome brave knight of old."

"Less of the old, thank you," he grumbled.

The others barely stifled the giggles.

"Also we have IDs for all three of the victims, I have sent through the basics to you, and have made a start at looking for common ground. Anything else, Sir?" Garcia chirped.

"Concentrate on the background searches, we'll let you know if we think of anything else," Hotch said, indicating the end of the conversation.

As Garcia left them to it, the team looked towards Hotch.

"Read through the victim information, get a coffee and we'll get started," he added.

Gathered together once more, the ideas started to flow.

"There is no obvious type to our victims," Reid began, "The UnSub has crossed gender boundaries and each victim is in a different age bracket."

"All have recently had surgery, but there are also signs of older surgical procedures in a similar place to the recent operations," Prentiss screwed up her nose slightly, "Are we looking at some sort of backstreet surgery?"

"Harvesting body parts for sale, maybe?" Rossi thought out loud, "There's a black market, if you are rich enough to buy the organ you need, then you don't have to bide your time on a waiting list."

JJ sat in silence, listening to the conversation, but not really letting any of it sink in. Her mind recalling with the last conversation she had had with Will's consultant. She knew first-hand the length of the very waiting list they were discussing.

"Don't they usually go for easy targets, people that won't be missed?" Morgan questioned, "Alex Grey was a professor at a busy university. OK he may fit your order, but surely our UnSub would go for someone less prominent."

"Depends how desperate you are to complete your order," Rossi bounced back, "Who knows the type of guys who uses such a service, but my guess is they are not the type you argue with. The good guys wait it out, even if that means losing the one they love."

JJ couldn't take it anymore. She stood, slowly and as calmly as possible, making her way to the bathroom. Hotch watched her go, as did the rest of the team.

"Is she OK?" Morgan finally asked.

Everyone shrugged, except Hotch.

"Will isn't well," he said gravely.

"Let's hope JJ's not coming down with it," Reid said, before returning to the files in front of him. The rest of the team were quick to follow his lead.

. . .

Walking into the local station JJ had her media face on. Smiling sweetly she shook the hand of the chief of police, Ben Young.

"This is our Unit Chief SSA Aaron Hotchner."

Hotch stepped forward to shake hands, glancing around their new base.

"Thank you for coming out to help us. We've never had a murder, let alone four. We are all lost," the chief seemed almost apologetic.

"Four?" Hotch questioned.

"Yes," Chief Young began to clarify, "We found the body of a young woman this morning. She is at the morg, being examined now."

Hotch decided that introducing the rest of the team could wait.

"Rossi, you'll come with me to see the bodies. Prentiss and Morgan, head out to the site, see what you make of it. JJ, can you help Reid set up here? I want a complete media blank until we have all returned, understood?"

JJ nodded.

. . .

Standing next to the shining metal table, Rossi and Hotch looked at each other. The woman had been identified as thirty year old Karyn Howard. She had suffered the same fate as the three previous bodies.

"Thoughts?" Rossi asked out of habit.

"None of the victims are locals, but all from the city, hence not being recognised straight away. He's sedating them so gets nothing from the pain he could cause. So it is all about the organs. Your earlier explanation is sounding plausible. In which case, we are probably looking for a group, rather than a solo killer." Hotch pondered what he had just summarised.

"I want to ask Garcia to look into their medical records. Something is not right with this whole double surgery thing," the fact was niggling Rossi.

"Good idea, it can't be a coincidence that they have all previously had surgery," Hotch agreed.

"Or that the killer has picked the same place to perform their surgery. I don't think this is a straight forward as organ harvesting. We're missing something."

Rossi took his phone out as he made his way towards the door. Hotch followed, indicating to the staff that Karyn could be taken away now.

. . .

Morgan stood up. Looking around the spot had a lot of advantages as a dump site, but also some major disadvantages.

"What you thinking?" Emily interrupted his thoughts.

"One guy, a dead body is a serious weight to carry a distance. Yet they haven't found any clear tyre tracks nearby."

"So, what you saying, we're looking for more than one person?" Emily quizzed her partner.

"Or someone who works out, seriously. I'd rule out a woman straight away. It would be nearly impossible to get a vehicle up here, look how far we had to treck to get out here. The UnSub has to do that walk, with a body."

Emily silently agreed, "OK so it's awkward to get to, but that is the point, it's secluded. You have time to follow your ritual without being interrupted. The locals said that this path was rarely used, only by 'serious hikers'."

"And he certainly has a ritual. Each body is laid out in a very specific way."

Morgan pulled the photos from the three previous victims. The arrangements were nigh on identical.

"Does this spot hold a special meaning to him? It's not easily found, could mean our killer is local, even if the victims aren't," Morgan aired his ideas.

"Makes sense," Emily agreed, "but we need to work out where the murders are taking place. Is he abducting them in the city, murdering them then bringing them out here? Or collecting them, coming out here then murdering them? It could mean we have to think about where we are best working from."

. . .

Sitting in his car, he watched.

Preparation was important. There was importance in the details. When people overlooked such things was when it all went wrong.

So he watched.

He watched them getting out of the car and heading in. A quick glance at his watch, on time, he liked predictability, it was safe.

Patience was the next important factor. He had plenty of patience – after all if a jobs worth doing it's worth doing well.

So he waited.

He turned up his i-pod a little louder, listening to their tune, 'We Have All the Time in the World' as he waited. Waiting for the perfect chance to get what he had come for. After all it was his, it belonged to him.

. . .

**~*~ Profiler's Choice 2011 Fanfic Awards for the Criminal Minds Community ~*~**

**Hosted by ilovetvalot and tonnie2001969**

_It is our pleasure to announce the Second Annual Profiler's Choice Fanfic Awards for the Criminal Minds community! _

_The nomination ballot is now available, and all rules are posted on Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum! Nomination ballots must be received by October 15, 2011 and must be sent to this PM at Profiler's Choice CM Awards. Fics for consideration must have appeared on the CM section of between September 1, 2010 and August 31, 2011 (see rules for full details.)_


	4. Chapter 4

**Mine**

**Disclaimer – I own nothing but the ideas**

**. . **

Gathered in their make shift home, the team looked at the information Reid and JJ had laid out around the room. Each victim had their share of a board. Before and after photos clearly showing the reason the team had been brought in. Alongside the pictures were coloured notes in Reid's typically scruffy handwriting.

Another board was dedicated to the dumps sites, both of which were similar. Again the photos and the notes (all colour coded) were all being considered by the team.

"Garcia what do you have?"

The team heard Hotch's distinct voice announce the cyber arrival of their colleague.

"So I have been running further background checks on our victims, having added Karyn Howard to the equation and I can only find one link."

"And that is?" Hotch questioned, before she had chance to explain.

"It's a medical, bonus points to Agent Rossi for his request for further delving into medical histories. All of our victims underwent some form of transplant surgery around the same time, just over twelve months ago. But that is it. They were all at the state hospital within a very specific time frame, but each had a different operation, for different reasons, with different medical teams. Tell me this helps you, Boss."

"It all helps, Garcia, it definitely helps," Hotch reassured.

"I have forwarded all of the information I can and have spoken to the hospital, they are very willing to help in any way they can. In the meantime I will continue to hunt around the whole icky world of organ transplants and medical bits to see if I can find anything else out. Unless there is anything else you want me to do?"

"Not at the moment, but thank you," Hotch answered.

"Harvesting organs that have already been transplanted once?" Rossi raised an eyebrow at his own question.

"Guess you know they are healthy," Morgan put forward.

"It would indicate that the UnSub has some connection to the hospital," Reid suggested, "That way he would be able to get information on people who had undergone transplant surgery."

"I think we need to focus on what we do know at this stage, and then we can start to build a preliminary profile. Let's start with the victimology," Hotch reigned in the speculating team.

"People who have undergone transplant surgery are a very specific group. It may be what makes our UnSub cross gender and age differences but the actual pool to choose from is narrow," Prentiss started.

JJ listened, the whole time all she could think about was Will. She knew she needed to focus, but every time the word transplant was used, her mind returned to him. The last image she had of him laying helplessly in the bed, waiting. She tried hard to keep her face neutral; she didn't want to raise suspicion among her friends.

"The first victim, Bob Reeves, was the oldest and the least fit of all our victims. Is that coincidence or did our UnSub pick the weakest first?" Morgan commented.

"I thought we were looking at this as organ trafficking?" Reid questioned, "Which would mean victims would be chosen to meet an order or demand. What you're suggesting is more personal."

"True," Morgan nodded.

"At this stage we need to keep all avenues open," Hotch interjected, "We can't rule anything out yet. Let's focus on the dumpsites. Morgan? Prentiss?"

"Well both sites are secluded and difficult to get to. They give the UnSub chance to act out their ritual in peace. They are not going to be disturbed. It's lucky that the bodies were found at all. This is really off the beaten track," Prentiss started.

"The second site was similar to the first," Morgan continued, "It was a spur track off the main path. If the locals hadn't of widened their search then we may not have Karyn. Both sites have a lot of contradictions. The sites are very specific; you wouldn't find them by luck, which suggests a personal link. Also the amount of ritual in the layout of the victims again points to a solo killer. Yet the remoteness of the location would be very hard for one person get to alone."

"A lot of killers would have been thrown into panic when the original dumpsite was found," Rossi pointed out, "Yet looking at the report, our guy calmly found and new spot and carried on. I think we are looking at one person, not a group. The ritual is as important as the trophy. If they just wanted the organs the body would be 'waste' afterwards, they could dump it anywhere, anyhow."

JJ shifted, staring out of the window, she could no longer face the images. Closing her eyes briefly she fought to compose herself.

. .

JJ was uncomfortable as she sat beside Rossi; across from them were Jess and Sara, friends of Karyn Howard. Rossi had been asking them questions for a while, but hadn't found out anything new.

"I appreciate how hard this is for you, but I need to take you back to your night out with Karyn. I don't want you to try too hard to remember, I need you to relax and hopefully you can subconsciously remember things that may seem unimportant to you, but may help us."

They both nodded, JJ shifted. She was glad to have something to focus on. It always fascinated her how Rossi managed to calm and talk people through these things.

"You told us how you got ready together, and then met the others at the restaurant. The meal was good and everyone was relaxed and enjoying themselves. After the meal some of you decided to make a night of it and move on the bar."

The girls nodded again.

"Think about that first scan of the room, what do you see?" Rossi asked.

Sara closed her eyes, as Jess stared ahead.

"It wasn't as busy as we expected," Sara chipped in.

"Good," Rossi encouraged.

"There was a group of men over by the bar, we headed towards them," Jess continued.

"There were people in some of the booths, couples or pairs of people mainly."

"OK, so you reach the bar and order your drinks, get chatting, maybe dance. It's getting late. What happens when you realise Karyn is missing?"

"She had said she was going to the toilet. I didn't go with her, I was 'busy'," Sara said uncomfortably, "Then Jess came over, saying she was leaving, and asked where Karyn was."

"So, you look around for her, and can't see her, but what can you see?"

"The bar was nearly empty. Amy and Carly were on the dance floor with a couple of guys from the group we met. Most of the booths were empty. Karyn's purse was on one of the tables, near the door," Jess explained.

"Well done, now focus on that table, it's empty now, but at some point during the evening you looked at that table while Karyn was sat there. Who was with her?"

The silence hung in the air, the pause finally fading.

"He was younger, big, stocky, very fit, a real 'Jock'. Short dark hair," Sara seemed to get excited as she obviously could see the man in her mind, "They were chatting, both had a drink, glasses in front of them. Karyn was smiling, talking away, very animated, hands everywhere. He sat passively listening, nodding his head. He was staring at her, unblinking the whole time."

"Do you think you can work with us, to produce an image?"

Sara nodded eagerly.

Rossi smiled reassuringly.

So did JJ, he did it again, somehow.

. . .

**~*~ Profiler's Choice 2011 Fanfic Awards for the Criminal Minds Community ~*~**

**Hosted by ilovetvalot and tonnie2001969**

_It is our pleasure to announce the Second Annual Profiler's Choice Fanfic Awards for the Criminal Minds community! _

_The nomination ballot is now available, and all rules are posted on Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum! Nomination ballots must be received by October 15, 2011 and must be sent to this PM at Profiler's Choice CM Awards. Fics for consideration must have appeared on the CM section of between September 1, 2010 and August 31, 2011 (see rules for full details.)_


	5. Chapter 5

**Mine**

**Disclaimer – I own nothing but the ideas**

**. .**

Standing in front of the small group of local police, plus additional staff from the City's force, the team were ready to deliver their profile. JJ had handed out packs that had the details of the profile and the picture they had created with Sara's help.

Hotch took a step forward, silence seemed to settle over the room. He paused a moment longer, making sure he had gained everyone's attention. He looked around the room, making brief eye contact with each in turn. Now he knew they were ready to listen.

"We are looking for an individual white male." Hotch started, "He is in his late twenties, but people who know him may comment on how he appears old for his years. It is likely he has shown signs of an Obsessive Compulsive Disorder or OCD. This will have been evident throughout his life; it may be commented in school reports. We believe he is a local, who probably moved into the city to study."

Morgan stepped forward, obsessions being his area of expertise, "His obsessional nature has let his crimes appear more sophisticated than those normally associated with an UnSub of his age. He is meticulous in his preparation and throughout the whole process. Routine is so important to him that, when his original dumpsite was discovered, instead of panicking and dumping Karyn, he calmly found a new site to complete his ritual."

"His ritual appears to follow a typical operational procedure," Reid took over, shuffling nervously under the eyes of the room "All of the victims have been clean; their organs have been surgically removed with amazing accuracy. There is evidence of shunts being inserted to keep the victims sedated throughout the procedure, they did not suffer. Our UnSub is not motivated by pain or other sadistic pleasures. In fact their deaths almost seem like an unfortunate side effect of the whole procedure."

"Our UnSub has to have medical knowledge," Rossi chipped in, "He didn't pick this stuff up from TV and books. He also has access to medical equipment and drugs. He will have studied medicine and is possibly still working in a hospital. He may have had contact with our victims during their stays in hospital."

"All of our victims are transplant patients," JJ swiftly explained, looking at the puzzled look of some in the room.

"This seems to be the only common link between them," Prentiss followed, "and his prime motivation."

JJ cringed, the sick of son of a bitch was actually killing people after all they had been through. She couldn't help but think about Will, alone in hospital fighting his illness. She prayed he would survived, as she was sure the friends and family of their victims had prayed for their loved ones. Only then to have them snatched away after by this bastard.

"This makes our UnSub emotionally driven," Prentiss continued, "He will have a goal and will not stop until he has reached that goal."

"What is that goal?" a young officer asked.

"As of yet we do not know, we may never" Hotch once again took the lead, "What we need to do now is focus our investigation on two areas, first the state hospital and its staff. Someone in that hospital will know our UnSub, the summary profile in you pack and the picture should been used when questioning staff there. Secondly we need to find the place he is using for the operations. At present we do not know if he kills them in the city or brings them out here first. Any questions?"

Hotch took the silence as a no and indicated his team should move through to their base for their briefing.

. .

Watching, he waited, sensing the time was right he got out of the car and made his way over the street.

"Hay Stevie," he called.

The kid looked at him in a suspicious way.

"Do I know you?"

"I'm Jim; I work with your Mom at the store. She asked me to come and pick you up, her car broke down and she's waiting for recovery."

"It's OK; I'll wait here, thanks."

"Come on kid, your Mom's got enough to worry 'bout without you adding to it. Hopefully it will be sorted by the time we get there, let's go," he nodded towards his car.

Stevie paused; he could vaguely remember his Mom mentioning someone called Jim. Slowly he went towards the stranger, and then followed him to his car.

As he buckled up, Stevie looked up, he saw his teacher waving, and he waved back, smiling.

'Jim' smiled too, that was easier then he thought it would be.

. .

Hotch had connected Garcia again. They needed to put their heads together and fill in the gaps.

Reid stood staring at the victim board.

"What if there is another factor we're missing?" he says.

"Such as?" Hotch asked, willing to accept all possible suggestions.

"All of our victims have had different transplant operation, what if all of the organs came from one donor?"

"Garcia, is there any way of finding that out?" Hotch asked.

"I, um, would need some time," she swivelled to face another screen, "but you know me, where there's a will there's a way, Boss"

"Organs are assigned through the OPTN, Organ Procurement and Transplant Network," JJ realised too late what she was saying, but had to continue now everyone's eyes were on her, "They allocate each organ from a specific set of criteria, for example kidneys are given based on the length of time on the waiting list, however liver is given after using a different medical assessment to decide on the recipient. Maybe I should try contacting them; they may be able to help."

Hotch nodded, he also noted the fleeting panic in her eyes and started to put pieces together, praying he was wrong.

. .

"This isn't the way to the store," Stevie exclaimed as they took a turn.

"Road works," 'Jim' snapped.

"I want to go back to school; I'll wait for Mom there, please."

"You'll do as you're told," he growled.

Stevie started to cry, pulling on the handle of the car door in a vain attempt to escape.

. .

JJ came back into the room. Reid had been right.

"Garcia, I have a name, can you cross check it with staff at the state hospital?"

"Easy, my Cupcake, shoot."

"Philippa Cleaver."

"Who's Philippa Cleaver?" Morgan asked.

"She was a tri-athlete, during one of her training session she had an accident." JJ explained, "No-one else involved, no obvious cause, she just seemed to lose control of her bike. She was proclaimed brain dead on arrival at the hospital. As an athlete she was physically fit, her organs would have been ideal for transplant. All of our victims received a donation from her."

"Bingo," Garcia called out, "we have a trainee doctor by the name of Paul Donaldson, and his has been on compassionate leave since the death of his fiancé, one Philippa Cleaver."

The team looked up at a knock on the door. The female officer entered.

"Chief Young thought you should see this," she passed Hotch a fax.

"A boy has been taken, it looks like he fits our victimology," Hotch explained to the team.

"A boy?" Prentiss questioned.

"Garcia get us everything you can on Donaldson, he is our prime suspect."

"Right away, Boss man, your wish is my command. Over and out."

"Morgan, brief the force on Donaldson, he can't have got far, the kid's teacher called it in as he was driven away from the school," Hotch continued, "This is our best chance, let's hope we can stop him, before it's too late."

. .

**~*~ Profiler's Choice 2011 Fanfic Awards for the Criminal Minds Community ~*~**

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_It is our pleasure to announce the Second Annual Profiler's Choice Fanfic Awards for the Criminal Minds community! _

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	6. Chapter 6

**Mine**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas.**

**. . . .**

As they pulled up outside the city address Garcia had given them, Morgan and Prentiss got out of the black SUV. The heat hit them hard, after the cool air conditioned journey. Making their way towards the immaculate apartment block, they noticed that the exterior was pristine – clean, tidy and beautifully presented.

Morgan buzzed Donaldson's apartment. No answer.

"No surprise," he muttered, as Prentiss leant in to try a neighbour. They didn't really expect to find him at home, not with another possible victim missing.

Finally they found someone at home who was willing to come and let them in.

. . . .

Vera Brown looked over their credentials and let them enter. She led them towards Donaldson's apartment.

"Are you sure you have the right person? Paul is such a nice quiet lad. He's the one that keep's this place looking so nice. Real pride in himself and his surroundings has Paul."

Morgan raised a knowing eyebrow.

"Really, Ms Brown," turning on the charm, he smiled at the elderly lady, "can you tell us much about Paul Donaldson? It will help us a great deal."

She stopped and looked at Morgan, sizing him up, and then returned his warm smile.

"What can I say? I don't really know him, but he's always seemed to be a pleasant young man. He's a doctor, you know? Worked up at the hospital until last year, I think he still goes in and volunteers now and again, helping patients in their recovery, I think, I don't really know, sorry. I'm not sure what happened last year, Paul keeps himself to himself, but it was something to with that lovely girlfriend he had. I haven't seen her since. Is this something to do with her?"

"No, Ma'am, not directly," Morgan answered, "Does Paul have a temper at all?"

"No, no, quite the opposite really, He always seems so calm. Even when we had a problem a few months back with some vandalism. He just cleared it up and dealt with it all, the police and everything. He's what we use to call a born leader, in charge but not bossy, if you know what I mean?" She stopped outside a door. "This is it, but I don't know how you plan to get in if Paul is out."

"Don't worry about that," Derek smiled, "thank you for your help."

Vera smiled and walked slowly away, glancing back at the pair. Prentiss looked at Morgan.

"Is there anyone you can't charm?" she chuckled.

"You," he retorted, testing the door to see how easy it would give.

Prentiss laughed.

. . . .

Once inside, Morgan and Prentiss separated and busied themselves looking for anything that may help.

Prentiss slowly studied the open planned lounge dinner. It was spotless, clinically so. He brought a whole new meaning to minimalistic. There lack of personality was startling, she felt like she had entered her doctor's waiting room, all that was missing was a few magazines on the glass coffee table. Moving towards the bookcase, she gazed over the titles. All medical text books, nothing for pleasure, _unless __that __was __his __pleasure_, she shuddered at the thought.

Turning she headed towards the mantel, here was the only hint of a person living here. There were several black framed pictures of who she assumed was Philippa Cleaver, but none of them together.

"Anything?" Morgan questioned, joining Prentiss once more.

She shrugged.

"A collection of medical text books and pictures of his dead fiancé, not exactly condemning evidence," she added with a hint of sarcasm, "You?"

"Nothing concrete, but I would definitely say this guy has and an OCD, you should see his bedroom, hospital corners have nothing on this guy. Everything fits the profile, and he's not here, could be with our victim right now."

That was a thought neither of them wanted to have, but equally was naggimg away at them.

"But he could have gone out for a milk," Prentiss added.

. . . .

Paul looked down at the young boy huddled in the corner, crying. Crouching down, Paul tried to smile reassuringly, his best bedside manner shining through. Stevie seemed confused.

"Now, listen to me and follow my instructions and it won't hurt, do you understand?"

Stevie nodded and watched as Paul leaned in close and undid the shackle on his arm.

"Good boy, now up onto the table please."

Stevie shook his head, "I want my Mom, and you said you were taking me to my Mom, I want her."

"You're Mom is rather busy right now and you have something that belongs to me. Once I have it back you can go back to your Mom."

Stevie shoved at Paul in a quick burst of childish temper and compacted fear.

"Now!" he shouted.

Paul grabbed Stevie by his skinny arm.

"Now look here you ungrateful little brat, haven't your parents taught you not to steal. You have something I want back. NOW GET ON THAT TABLE," he was now shouting in the face of the terrified child.

Paul sent Stevie staggering towards the gurney at the far side of the room, the clatter echoed in the empty space. Stevie was shaken, but saw his chance, dashing towards the door.

"Not so fast," Paul was quick to intercede, kicking the door shut then standing in the way. He had hoped a child would be easier, but evidently not. Picking up the screaming child, he slung him down on the table and was quick to securing a strap while he used his weight to hold Stevie down. Once he had finished securing him to the gurney, Paul administered the dose of sedative. Watching as the wriggling mass slipped into a silent slumber, Paul sighed deeply, _was__ nothing __in __this __life__ easy?_

As he wheeled the now still child down the corridor, too his 'theatre' he started to whistle, calming himself for the operation. He had to be calm; it always went better when he was calm.

When he reached the room everything was ready. He scrubbed up, turning up his music, he started the operational procedure, calming striping and prepping. Tracing a finger along the scar, Paul followed with his first incision.

Taking his time, he managed to extract the liver. Looking the small organ in his hand, fury built inside of him. He should have known they would have had to split it; a child would not have a full sized adult liver. He only had part of her.

As the rage peaked Paul slammed his hand down, the scalpel he held digging into Stevie. Placing the liver down, Paul took the scalpel in both hands, stabbing repeated. Again and again, blood seeping out and trickling down onto the cold metal table. Paul continued until the shrill sound of a monitor announced Stevie's death. Paul stood there, listening to the alarm, letting what he had done sink in.

. . . .

**I'm off on holiday for a week - so no more updates for this story until I return - sorry to keep you all waiting as your support is appreciated.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Mine**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas.**

**Sorry for the delay – I was off on holiday last week.**

. . .

Rossi stood in silence. It was never easy, even after all the years, it still hit hard, but there was something about a dead child that . . .

"It's definitely him," Rossi heard Hotch say, as he passed the photograph Stevie's Mom had given them.

"Without a doubt," Rossi let his head drop, taking a moment in respect of the young life needlessly lost.

"What do you think happened to make him panic?" Hotch questioned, looking around the out of place dump site. This didn't fit with the previous murders, but the dump site wasn't the only thing that was new.

"I doubt it was us. When we found his first dumpsite, he just picked another and carried on calmly. This," Rossi gestured in the direction of the spot Stevie's body had been found, "This is frantic, disorganised, everything we know our UNSUB isn't."

"It's the only child he has killed, maybe it's an emotional tie to his childhood," Hotch pondered out loud.

"No," Rossi said confidently, "The initial observations of the body say little Stevie was stabbed with a scalpel. My guess is something went wrong during the op. Our guy depends on routine; whatever went wrong was enough to completely freak him out."

"Enough for him to stop?" asked the police chief, who had stood silently, in shock at the sight before him.

"Not likely," Hotch turned towards the Chief, "This UNSUB has a specific mission to accomplice, and if anything this may have triggered enough panic to shorten his time frame. He may now escalate in an effort to complete before we catch up with him."

"So what do we do?"

"We work out his next move," Rossi chipped in, still staring at the spot Stevie was found, "and we catch the bastard."

. . .

"Office of the all knowing and slightly freaked out tech-goddess, how may I be of assistance?" Penelope's voice was heard clearly over the speaker phone that the team had gathered round.

"We have one possible victim left, we tried to bring her in, but she is not at the address that is on the medical records you forwarded to us," Hotch begun, "We need to find her, and quick Garcia, it's likely to have been a recent move, so she hasn't had chance to update all her records."

"Cherry Jones," Garcia paused, "latest known address on its way to you now, interesting fact she had a follow up appointment at the hospital last week, so they should have had her new address too!"

"May be she forgot to give it to them, stress of the situation," Prentiss tried to explain away the inaccuracy, "or it just hadn't got onto the system yet."

"Donaldson's still volunteers at the hospital," Morgan looked up at the others, "Garcia can you find out in what capacity?"

"Sure thing."

"Working on the assumption that he is getting his information on his victims from his work in the hospital, we need to move fast," Hotch begun his orders, "Morgan, Prentiss, you two head to Cherry Jones' address and bring her in. Rossi with me, to the hospital, just in case he needs to make a pit stop. He won't necessarily be set up for another victim so quickly. Reid I would like you and JJ to go back to Donaldson's place, there are police in wait there, in case he comes back, but I want you to go through everything again, see if there is any clue as to where he may take his victims."

JJ jolted at the mention of her name. She may have physically been in the room, but her spirit was elsewhere. She started to wonder how much longer she could face this case.

. . .

JJ stood in front of the mantle, holding one of the sleek framed photographs that Prentiss had told the team about. It was so sad that someone as gifted as Philippa had obviously been, had to die, but amazing that she had helped others live. JJ hated the idea that, worst case scenario, someone may have to die so that Will could live, but she couldn't face the prospect of losing him either. Closing her eyes she prayed that his sister may be able to help.

Reid slowly sauntered back into the lounge, an annotated medical text in his hands. Looking up briefly, his eyebrows dipped in concern.

"You OK?" he asked.

"Mmmm," JJ took a second to compose herself, reminding herself where she was, "I was just looking through these photos, do they look like they have been taken in the same place to you?"

Reid peered over her shoulder, studying the photographs, one by one.

"I would say they look very like the woods the original dumpsite was in."

JJ nodded her agreement, "But we need the place he holds them, not where he dumps them."

"Wait a minute," Reid literally held a finger up and paused, as it became obvious the cogs were turning in that genius mind.

JJ watched, waiting with baited breath.

"We have searched for all direct connections to Paul Donaldson, what if he is using a site connected to Philippa. He is obviously devoted to her, they were engaged and practically living together. Have we checked what happened to her estate when she died?"

JJ had her phone out and had started to dial Garcia as soon as he finished speaking.

. . .

"Paul, what are you doing?"

Donaldson spun around, facing the young nurse, shit; this was the problem when you didn't stick to the plan: things go wrong.

"You shouldn't be in here Paul," Sharon said with as much confidence as she could muster. As she did she took a step back towards the cupboard door, she was uneasy about the look in Paul's eyes.

As she stepped again, Paul grabbed her arm.

"You cannot tell anyone, I wasn't here," panic evident in his voice.

"Paul, you are hurting me, please, please let go."

"You see, Sharon, I don't think I can do that. I need to know you won't tell anyone. I don't want to hurt you but . . ."

"Please Paul, please, I won't tell anyone, I promise."

That same whining, how he hated the whining. Slapping Sharon across the face, he barely managed to stifle her scream.

". . . but I will not let you stop me either, not now I am so close, so close."

. . .

As Hotch and Rossi walked into the hospital reception, they sensed something was wrong. Showing their credentials, they waited while Dr Bellamy was paged.

A tall balding middle-aged man approached them within minutes. Offering a hand, he shook a greeting with both FBI agents.

"Sorry, we aren't normally this flustered, but one of our nurses has just been attacked in a store cupboard, she's shaken, but ok."

"What was taken?" Rossi questioned.

"Drugs and some equipment."

"Did she know her attacker? Was it Paul Donaldson?" Rossi continued.

"Yes, yes it was," Dr Bellamy stammered, "how did you it was him?"

Rossi shared a look with Hotch; yet again he was one step ahead of them.

Hotch took his phone out of his jacket pocket, stepping away from the conversation.

"Prentiss, Donaldson has been here, we think he is heading your way, be careful."

. . .

_**Author's**____**Note:**____**BIG**____**ANNOUNCEMENT**____**-**____**THE**____**FINAL**____**VOTING**____**BALLOT**____**IS**____**AVAILABLE**____**FOR**____**THE**____**SECOND**____**ANNUAL**____**PROFILER'S**____**CHOICE**____**CM**____**AWARDS**____**on**____**"CHIT**____**CHAT**____**ON**____**AUTHOR'S**____**CORNER"**____**FORUM.**____**Please**____**take**____**this**____**opportunity**____**to**____**recognize**____**some**____**wonderful**____**author's**____**and**____**their**____**stunning**____**pieces**____**of**____**fic.**____**Voting**____**ends**____**11/30/2011.**____**Two**____**Amazon**____**gift**____**cards**____**will**____**be**____**given**____**to**____**two**____**RANDOM**____**voters**____**that**____**take**____**the**____**time**____**to**____**vote**____**in**____**ten**____**or**____**more**____**categories.**____**Congratulations**____**to**____**all**____**of**____**this**____**year's**____**nominees.**____**Now,**____**let's**____**all**____**read**____**some**____**CM**____**fic!**_


	8. Chapter 8

**Mine**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas.**

. . .

Morgan looked around the neighbourhood as Prentiss rung the doorbell, again. He had his hand covering his gun, just in case. They shared a look, just then the door opened, saving Morgan the task of 'opening' it. Facing them was the woman in her early forties, Cherry Jones.

"Hi, how can I help?"

"I'm Agent Prentiss and this is my partner Agent Morgan," they both held out their badges, "we're with the FBI. Please, I don't want to alarm you, but may we come in a talk to you?"

The woman stepped aside, gesturing them in.

Following her lead through to the lounge, Prentiss sat down on a chair opposite Cherry, while Morgan stood looking out the window, aware that they had beaten Donaldson here so he may turn up at any time.

"Ms Jones," Prentiss begun, "I don't want to scare you, but I am afraid that you may be a target for a suspect we are currently tracking down. We have reason to believe he is on his way here right now."

"Sorry . . . I don't understand," she stammered, "you must be mistaken."

Prentiss tried to explain the situation without causing too much distress to Cherry, which was easier said than done. All the time Morgan watched.

"So you think this man wants to kill me as I was recipient of his fiancée's heart?" Cherry's hand had subconsciously moved over her chest, as if trying to protect the gift she had received.

Prentiss glanced over at her partner; Morgan had hardly said a word since they had entered the room, but she could tell by the shift in his stance that he had spotted something. She turned back to Cherry;

"Please Cherry; can you go upstairs? Please, wait there until you hear from us."

Cherry took some unsteady steps towards the door, she paused, mouth open as she was about to ask something.

"Please Ma'am," Morgan insisted.

She nodded and left.

"So how do we play this?" Prentiss asked.

Morgan had edged back from the window but was still able to see.

"We hope he has no idea what Cherry Jones looks like, you answer the door, than I pounce."

"Great," Emily muttered, as they both head towards the door, weapons drawn. As they waited for the inevitable Morgan updated Hotch.

The doorbell rang. Prentiss waited before answering the door. Pulling the door wide, she stood side on, trying to hide her gun from him.

"Hi," she smiled.

Donaldson looked around nervously.

"Cherry Jones?"

"Yes, how can I help you?" she continued to smile, reassuringly, wanting to draw him in.

"I'm from a donation support group, can we talk?"

"Sure, come on in?" Prentiss stepped to one side. As she did Donaldson looked past her at a mirror mounted on the wall opposite. It took mere seconds for his brain to compute what he saw: the dark skinned agent behind the door, the gun shadowed behind the woman smiling at him.

Turning he ran, Morgan was quick to pursue as he realised what was happening. The guy was fast, Morgan was not gaining any ground on him. Though he didn't know the area well, Donaldson knew enough of the area to be one step ahead of Morgan.

Trying to take the sharp turn as he followed Donaldson, Morgan slammed his shoulder into the brick wall, as he lost his footing. Cursing loudly as he did so. Raising his gun, he tried to steady himself enough to take a shot.

"FBI, Paul Donaldson, stop."

No response. The huge figure disappearing round the next turn, Morgan wasn't one to give up easily, but right now he was in agony. Guessing it was nothing more than a sprain, he still struggled to put weight on his right ankle. Added to that pain was his throbbing shoulder and now foul mood. Slowly he made his way back to Cherry Jones' house.

. . .

Realising he had lost the dark agent, Paul Donaldson found a secluded corner of a quiet park to rest. He needed to think, but right now all he could concentrate on was regaining his breath.

Looking around, a plan begun to formulate itself in his mind, he desperately wanted her, she had something that belonged to him, but she would have to wait. He could wait, if needs be, he could wait. Right now he needed to get away and make everything else safe. He had done so well, falling at the last fence bit him hard, but if he was to be successful he had to look at the big picture and that meant securing what he already have, then they couldn't take her away from him, no matter.

He assumed, as they knew his name, he couldn't go home. There was one place he could go; now he just had to figure out how to get there.

. . .

"OK Philippa had an apartment a couple of blocks away," Garcia started, "that was sold after her death. However there is a lodge in her name, looking like it was left to her by her parents."

"Any chance that lodge would be in the woods where the bodies were found?" Rossi asked.

"Bonus points go to David Rossi, well done you."

"Thanks Garcia," Hotch said, indicating the end of the conversation.

"Urm, Sir, how's my boy? I hear he's suffering."

Hotch smiled a rare smile, knowing she was concerned for Morgan, "He's fine, honest."

. . .

Paul had started collecting together the jars, from their shelf. He had gone straight through the log built building to them. Placing each one carefully into the wooden box he had.

_They could not take her away. They had tried, but they would not succeed. She was his, she belongs to him. No-one could take her from him._

He hoped he could hide out here forever, or until they gave up. _They__hadn__'__t__found__the__lodge__so__far,__maybe__they__wouldn__'__t._

He placed it gently on the bedside table as he lay down next to her. Turning to face her, she was still beautiful in his eyes; he moved a strand of straggly hair.

_Why had he not got her heart first? Why?_

He needed her to be complete before he joined her. Paul wanted nothing more than to sleep peacefully with her. God knew he had tried to live without her, he had tried, but he couldn't.

"I'm sorry, my love, so sorry," whispered to what was left of Philippa Cleaver's corpse, "I will win your heart back, and when I do we can be together, forever."

. . .

On their way out to the woods, making their way to the destination Garcia had sent to them, all lines were open.

Prentiss and Morgan had brought Cherry Jones into the station for safety in case Donaldson decided to make another attempt at snatching her. Despite his injury, that seemed to be concerning Garcia more than himself, Morgan had joined the team. _After__all__he__owed__the__Son__of__a__Bitch._

"I understand that losing Philippa so unexpectedly was a shock, but why wait a year? If her death was the stressor; why such a long period between the event and the first murder?" Prentiss asked.

"The first anniversary of the loss of a loved one can be a traumatic as losing them in the first place," Hotch said flatly, all aware that he was speaking from experience.

Prentiss shared a look with Rossi; they both knew that his comment was based on raw experience.

"We have thwarted the final stage of his plan, he is likely to become increasingly unstable," Rossi explained, though he knew the team all knew what to expect, but needed to talk on their journey, "The calm UNSUB we had at the start of this has gone. He is now working on a purely emotional response."

JJ sat in silence.

. . .

_**Author's Note: BIG ANNOUNCEMENT - THE FINAL VOTING BALLOT IS AVAILABLE FOR THE SECOND ANNUAL PROFILER'S CHOICE CM AWARDS on "CHIT CHAT ON AUTHOR'S CORNER" FORUM. Please take this opportunity to recognize some wonderful author's and their stunning pieces of fic. Voting ends 11/30/2011. Two Amazon gift cards will be given to two RANDOM voters that take the time to vote in ten or more categories. Congratulations to all of this year's nominees. Now, let's all read some CM fic!**_


	9. Chapter 9

** Mine**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas.**

**Okay only the epilogue to go – I'll post it by the end of next week. I like to thank everyone who has supported this story. I love doing case fic and try to stay as close to the show as I can when I do this stuff.**

. . .

Laying there he closed his eyes, _if__ only __it __could __be __that __easy, __just __close __his__ eyes __and __be __with __her __again._

As Paul drifting into a light doze, he could see her so clearly, laughing and smiling as they planned everything together. They had set the date, and thrown ideas back and forth about what they wanted from their wedding day. Philippa didn't want a big white wedding, not without her parents. They had deliberately chosen an outdoor venue, both spending so much time out in the open. The plan was to keep everything as simple and low key as possible.

Reaching out he held her hand, "What do I do Darling? Should I join you? Or do I wait? We're so close, I might still be able to make our date, let us still be joined as we planned."

. . .

The team got as close as they could in the SUV's, but the last part had to be on foot.

Making their way along the footpath, weapons drawn, the team's senses were on high alert. Each crack of a twig, rustle of leaves or muddy squelch seemed magnified in the near silence they were endeavouring to create.

Morgan inwardly cursed as he hit yet another hidden root, the uneven ground aggravating his already swollen ankle. Trying to focus beyond the pain, his eyes searched the woods around them for any sign of danger.

Prentiss could see the shots of agony flash across her partner's face. She begun to wince in time with him, not saying anything, as she knew he would not listen. Derek Morgan had been determined to come along and it was too late to change his mind now. Instead she continued to travel alongside him, just in case.

JJ had struggled with this case from the start, but this trek into the wood was the final straw. She tried hard to steady herself, eyes wide at the deepening shade of the trees. She could feel them enclosing around her. With each step she focused on her breath, if she could maintain control of her breathing she could remain calm. However the darkness was encouraging her nightmares, the dreams that had plagued her since the flight out. Will could die; she could be alone with Henry. Then what would happen to Henry is anything happened to her?

Hotch kept JJ close, he didn't know exactly what was going on in her life, but he was starting to make certain assumptions on the evidence he had observed this week. He knew Will was ill, but now Hotch was starting to wonder how ill.

Rossi felt at home in the woods, he had hunted a few in his time, yet hunting a human was making him uncomfortable. _Though__could__you__really__refer__to__any__they__pursued__as__human?_

However Dr Reid was feeling increasingly edgy; the increasing dark as they went further into the woods, unsettled him. Watching the path carefully he followed the others, determined not to lag behind. The local police that were behind him, failed to reassure him.

Eventually Hotch stopped them, ahead, in a clearing; the timber structure could be seen. With a few simple hand gestures and the odd word, soon everyone was moving into place ready to close in on the lodge and it occupant.

In turn each whispered their readiness into their mic. Hotch paused after the final comment from Rossi, who had taken one of the sides.

Standing, he called, from the edge of the clearing; "Paul Donaldson, FBI, come out, give yourself up."

Nothing. Hotch waited.

"Paul Donaldson, FBI, if you do not come out, we will come in, by force."

Still nothing.

"Go."

On Hotch's word each subdivision of his team moved forward, leaving the safety of trees that had previously hid them. Standing to the right of the front door, Hotch looked up at Morgan across from him; slowly Hotch turned the handle on the door, unlocked, _that__made__things__easy._ Pushing the door wide, Hotch repeated his call:

"Paul Donaldson, FBI, give yourself up."

Silence.

Hotch took the lead, scanning the room as he entered, Morgan followed, making his way towards a door on the right as Hotch headed straight forward. Others followed behind.

"Clear," Hotch heard Morgan called from the kitchen.

Pushing the final door open with his foot Hotch entered what he was rapidly realising was the bedroom. As his eyes trailed across the room, he saw Paul Donaldson. Stepping forward, he was quick to feel for a pulse, though he assumed that the needle he saw protruding from Donaldson's arm had contained an overdose. He was dead.

Looking at the scene in front of him, he was quick to assume the corpse lying next to Paul Donaldson was Philippa Cleaver. The body was dressed in a beautiful white gown, marred only by dark red almost black stains. As he surveyed the sight, the dead eyes inserted into the skull stared back at him. Swallowing hard he became aware of others in the room, he turned to face them.

"He's dead," he felt the need to say, if only to break the silence, as his team begun to digest the horror in front of them.

. . .

On the flight home, each was in their own zone, doing what they do to clear their mind before heading home. No-one wanting to take with them the image they had shared. Hotch looked up at the blonde agent opposite him, who was, to all intents and purposes, engrossed in a file.

"You can tell me to mind my own business," Hotch started, aware he had caught her attention, "but is Will OK?"

JJ let her head drop, taking a steadying breath. Slowly looking back up at her normally stoic boss, she could see the concern in his eyes.

"He," she paused, biting her lip, "He needs a kidney transplant."

Hotch reached across the table, silently taking her hand. JJ nodded, accepting the rare gesture, forcing a weak smile.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Hotch asked.

She shook her head softly, allowing her long hair to block her face, while she wiped a solitary tear. Looking back up, JJ met Hotch's eyes.

"Thanks," was all she could manage, before she withdrew her hand and disappeared back behind the manila file.

. . .

No act of kindness, however small, is ever wasted.  
><strong>Aesop, <strong>**Greek Fable Writer**

. . .

_**Author's Note: BIG ANNOUNCEMENT - THE FINAL VOTING BALLOT IS AVAILABLE FOR THE SECOND ANNUAL PROFILER'S CHOICE CM AWARDS on "CHIT CHAT ON AUTHOR'S CORNER" FORUM. Please take this opportunity to recognize some wonderful author's and their stunning pieces of fic. Voting ends 11/30/2011. Two Amazon gift cards will be given to two RANDOM voters that take the time to vote in ten or more categories. Congratulations to all of this year's nominees. Now, let's all read some CM fic!**_


	10. Chapter 10

**Mine**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas.**

**This is it, thank you for all the support, it has really encouraged me to try some more case fic, though maybe next time with someone I find easier to write (JJ never likes to play nicely).**

. . .

While JJ let the Doctors words wash over her, she focused on Will, watching through the window to his room. JJ could get the gist from the phrases that struck her, but everything in between was an incoherent babble.

Katie, Will's sister, stood opposite the blonde agent, trying to support her, but knowing she was nowhere close right now. Reaching across the gap, Katie gave JJ's arm a gentle squeeze.

"Thank you," JJ mouthed.

"Any questions, Ms Jereau?" the Doctor asked.

She shook her head, right now she felt like she was drowning in her own tears, if she was unable to release them soon, she was sure they would consume her. However, standing there watching Will, she had to remain strong, she had to.

As the doctor walked away, Katie spoke up.

"Is it OK if I go in to see Will before I leave? The doctors want me to rest tonight, before tomorrow's operation," she smiled nervously, "Easier said than done."

JJ shifted her eyes to the woman in front of her.

"You sure you're ok with this?" she asked, dreading the answer.

"Of course, he's my brother, he would do anything for me, and it's only fair I return the favour."

"Take as long as you like," JJ returned the friendly supportive squeeze, "I have all night with him, and I'm not going anywhere until this is over."

"JJ, you can't stay here all night," Katie begun, "Henry is a home, desperate to see his Mommy."

"I know," JJ was painfully aware of her voice faltering, "but right now I need to be with Will. I can't leave him, I can't lose him."

Katie pulled her should be sister-in-law into a hug. She was more than aware of the stubborn streak the young woman possessed. Separating, Katie made her way into Will's room, as JJ looked on; hugging herself as silent tears fell. She could see his soft smile as the siblings shared their time.

Hotch had seen the whole scene unfurl in front of him. He had collared the doctor as he walked away, using his persuasive nature to find out how bad things were. Moving towards his colleague, and friend, Hotch hoped she would accept his support, though he feared she wouldn't.

Coughing slightly as he approached, JJ was too absorbed in her thoughts to register the sound.

"JJ," he sounded out softly.

She turned at the recognition of her own name.

"Hotch," she spoke in surprise, "What? How?"

JJ frantically tried to wipe the tears from her face; hating the idea of her boss seeing her in this weakened state.

"What are you doing here?" she finally asked.

"I wanted to see if I could help you in anyway," his eyes searching hers, pleading her to let him help, "Even if it is only to do the coffee runs."

JJ looked at the ground, then back through at Will. Anywhere but meet the intense gaze of her normally stoic superior.

"Thank you Hotch, but you need to be home with Jack. Besides I'm fine, honest. Go home."

"JJ, you are no fine and no-one would expect you to be with what you are facing, let alone with the addition of what we observed this week. Let us help."

"Us?" JJ questioned.

"You don't honestly think I found you all by myself, do you?"

"Pen!" she guessed.

He nodded.

"You told Pen!" she accused.

"No, she was waiting for me in my office when we got back. Have you not learnt it impossible to hide a secret from Penelope Garcia?"

"I'm sorry," JJ muttered.

Hotch had already dismissed her accusation of his break of trust, he never expected an apology. Looking up and down the stark hospital corridor, he searched for words.

"I have bought you some time, Garcia has promised me she will stay away tonight, but tomorrow morning . . ." he shrugged.

JJ half smiled picturing the flurry of pink that would hit the hospital first thing tomorrow.

"That coffee you offered, sounds good right now," JJ paused, her lower lip trembling, "Maybe you should get yourself one too."

Hotch put his hand on her slender shoulder, acknowledging her acceptance of his support.

. . .

_**Author's Note: BIG ANNOUNCEMENT - THE FINAL VOTING BALLOT IS AVAILABLE FOR THE SECOND ANNUAL PROFILER'S CHOICE CM AWARDS on "CHIT CHAT ON AUTHOR'S CORNER" FORUM. Please take this opportunity to recognize some wonderful author's and their stunning pieces of fic. Voting ends 11/30/2011. Two Amazon gift cards will be given to two RANDOM voters that take the time to vote in ten or more categories. Congratulations to all of this year's nominees. Now, let's all read some CM fic!**_


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